Words Unspoken
by Baleful Eyes
Summary: The Hero of Ferelden returns to Kirkwall to tell her family what she's been meaning to tell them for years. To show them that she became someone even though she's a mage. What's she to do when she finds that all she knew is gone? Then a familiar face appears, and memories come back. Memories of words unspoken. [possibly just a two-parter] [cover credit goes to sandara of dA]
1. Coming Home

A grin was evident on Shylee's face from the moment she entered Kirkwall. The guards let her in as soon as they confirmed her identity. She asked for directions, and the guard, looking bemused, told her where she had to go to reach her destination. She went down the stairs the guard had pointed her to. After about a five minute walk, she turned at a corner, and immediately frowned.

This couldn't be the place. It was impossible. Still, she continued walking until she reached the house she had been looking for.

There was no doubt in her mind now. She was in the right place, but— "What happened to the house here?" she asked when she saw a dwarf heading in her direction.

"Huh?" the dwarf said, looking at the woman and then at the house. "Oh... They're renovating."

"Renovating?" Shylee echoed.

"Yes," the dwarf replied. "Renovating."

Shylee stared at the dwarf in complete befuddlement.

"Well, is anyone _there?_" Shylee pressed.

"I'm not sure," the dwarf replied. "I think they may have gone to Antiva for the month."

"I'm having a hard time believing this," Shylee said.

"Oh, of course," he said, "_no one _trusts a surface dwarf."

Shylee put her face in her hands, resisting the urge to beat the dwarf upside the head with her staff.

"Please, I need to find whoever lives there," Shylee begged.

"And I need a new pair of shoes, but alas," said the dwarf.

Shylee groaned.

"Varric, what's going on?" a woman said as she approached the two. "Who is this?"

"Not sure," replied the dwarf, displeased with the woman's sudden appearance. "Says she needs to find the people who live there."

"Can I help you?" the woman said uncertainly. "Who exactly are you trying to find?"

"I don't see how that's any of your concern," Shylee said, trying to control her temper.

"You're not going to find whoever it is you're looking for if you don't ask anyone," the woman said, sounding more annoyed than angry.

"As I said, I'm looking for the people who live here," Shylee reiterated.

"That's not very specific," said the woman. "I know most of the people in this city, but I don't exactly keep track of where they all live."

"Hawke, who is it you're bitching at now?" came a familiar voice. The two women and the surface dwarf turned to look at the speaker.

"Nice going, Rivaini," said the dwarf, Varric. "You told her Hawke's name."

"Not that hard to find out," the Rivaini pointed out.

"I'm sorry, but do I know you?" said Shylee. "You look... rather familiar."

"Hmm... oh, I remember you!" said the Rivaini. "You're that Warden that Zevran was following around, right? Didn't you become the Hero of the Blight or something?"

"More or less," Shylee said. "Isabela, was it?"

"Last time I checked," said the pirate with a grin.

"Wait, so you two know each other?' said the dwarf.

"No, I just happen to know the name of every stranger I come across," Shylee said, rolling her eyes.

"Fair enough," said Varric.

"So then, you're a mage, right?" said the other woman. "And... an Amell?"

"Yes," Shylee admitted. "Why do you ask? Are you an off-duty templar or something?"

"Or something," said Hawke. "I'm the one who lives here. My mother Leandra was an Amell. What can I do for you?"

"You live here?" Shylee said. "In this dump? What happened to it?"

"From what I know, Gamlen lost it all looking for the Gem of Karashok," Hawke explained.

"What?" Shylee said, dumbfound. "That can't... They wouldn't have allowed... What about the viscount?"

"Viscount Dumar?"

"What? No. The viscount is..." Shylee trailed off.

"When was the last time you were here?" Varric asked.

"I don't know. Twenty years. Maybe more."

"Well, that explains it," he said.

"Did you think that Aristide Amell was viscount?" Hawke asked.

Hesitantly, Shylee nodded.

"You should read this," Hawke said, handing her a piece of paper that was yellowed with age.

"_It's truly sad what happened to the Amells, isn't it? I still remember Grandmother talking about the balls Lord Aristide used to hold at their estate and the Antivan violin players and dancers from Afsaana. No expense was spared and no one would dare miss it, lest someone think they weren't worthy of an invitation.  
_"_And then poor Revka had the child. Magical talent, running in one of Kirkwall's most prominent families? The templars had considered Aristide to be viscount after Threnhold's arrest. Can you imagine the scandal had he been chosen? They whisked the child away to the Circle, and the Amells simply had no luck after that. Leandra ran off with a Fereldan apostate and then Damion was accused of smuggling. Poor Lord Fausten almost bankrupted his family trying to get the charges dropped, but I hear Viscount Marlowe simply wanted to get the Amells out of the picture. And it worked too, didn't it? By the time Lord Fausten got sick, there was only young Gamlen left and a mountain of debt.  
_"_I spoke to Dulci just the other day, and apparently Gamlen is now living in some Lowtown shack - sounds like the sort of character you'd cross a street to avoid! And let's not even talk about the estate.  
_"_Mother says we should remember the Amells because that sort of thing can happen to any one of us. You know the old saying: 'A Marcher's fortune rises and falls with the tide.' If you ask me, this is just another misfortune that magic brings to honest folk. Andraste help that poor family, whatever lies in store for them._"

"Poor Revka?" Shylee said. "Poor _Revka_? Was I really that much of a misfortune?"

"Shylee, you should take a seat," said Hawke, leading the Warden into what appeared to be a small clinic and gesturing to a bench. "You look pale." Hawke had already suspected the woman of being an Amell at this point. There wasn't much of a family resemblance between Hawke and Shylee; the only aspects of them that looked similar were their pale skin and sky blue eyes. Although they didn't know it yet, the two also possessed similar fiery attitudes. "You're the Hero of Ferelden, aren't you?"

Shylee nodded, not caring at all about Ferelden or her title at the moment. She hated her family for getting rid of her. She'd come to Kirkwall just so she could boast to them. Had her mother even cared?

Or did she want her gone like everyone else?

"Where's Revka?" Shylee asked.

"I... I don't know," Hawke admitted. If it was even possible, Shylee's pale skin become even paler. "That's it; I'm getting Anders."

As Hawke walked away, Shylee's eyes widened, and all remaining color receded from her face.

"You might want to hurry, Hawke. She's not looking too good." Varric turned to Shylee. "Don't worry, Warden. You'll be fine..." After a few seconds, realization sank in, and Varric's eyes widened. "Oh, shit. Blondie was a—Hawke, don't do that!"

"What are you talking about, Varric?" Hawke asked, but immediately stopped when she entered, as did Anders, who was right behind her. "Oh, shit."

"My words exactly," Varric said.

Before anyone could say anything else, the Warden immediately got up and walked out of the small clinic.

"Do you plan on just standing there like an idiot, or are you going to do something?" Varric said, eyeing Anders.

"I can't just—," he was interrupted when Hawke pushed him forward.

"Go after her," she said.

Anders nodded and left the clinic. When he exited he looked from side to side, and saw faint footprints in the dirt leading up to the old, abandoned Amell house.

With a reluctant sigh, Anders entered the ruined manor.

"So are we going to spy on them?" Varric asked, giving Hawke an evil grin.

"Of course," she replied with a grin of her own, just as maniacal.

"Well, I certainly didn't come here expecting to find this mess," said Isabela.

Hawke nearly groaned, already having a suspicion as to why Isabela was there. "Isabela, Anders already told you he _can't_ help! It's your own fault for getting these diseases anyway," Hawke said.

"That's not why I'm here!" Isabela exclaimed. "And whatever diseases I may or may not have are none of your concern! I just came to see you; I figured you'd be here, since you're practically in love with that mage."

"Shut up, Isabela!" Hawke warned.

"Yeah, Rivaini," Varric said. "She and Blondie are just friends. We all know Hawke and the elf are an item."

"No, they split up, remember?" Isabela replied.

"I hate the both of you," Hawke said in an icy tone.

"Let's just go invade Blondie's personal life," Varric said, motioning for the Amell house, where Shylee had no doubt gone.

"Sounds fun!" Isabela said. "Count me in!"

[ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ]

The house was dark and empty, filled with cobwebs. Shylee's light footsteps didn't make a sound as she stepped carefully across the floor, observing the house which she just barely remembered.

She walked into a small room; above a fireplace was a crest which seemed oddly familiar. She touched it, as if she hoped it would bring back some distant memory.

She heard the creaking of a floorboard and quickly turned around, staff out, prepared to attack whoever was there.

Hesitantly, Anders stepped forward.

"What are you doing here?" Shylee asked, not bothering to draw back.

"I came to talk to you," he explained.

"Well, of course; I'm not an idiot," she said. "I mean what are you doing _here_? In Kirkwall? Why did you leave the Wardens?"

"I... I," Anders couldn't find the words, or the courage, to let her know why he'd left.

"Wonderful explanation," Shylee said sarcastically. "Feel free to continue at any time."

[ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ]

"Do you think he's going to be able to tell her?" Hawke asked her two companions, the three of them standing at the top of the staircase to listen in on Anders' conversation with the Warden.

"He doesn't have the balls," Varric said.

"Agreed," said Isabela.

[ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ]

After a moment, Shylee raised an eyebrow. "What? No sarcastic comeback?" Her frown deepened.

Anders could kill a templar without flinching, yet for some reason, he seemed afraid of simply telling Shylee the truth.

"I couldn't stay with the Wardens. I wasn't free; it was just another form of imprisonment." It wasn't a complete lie; he _did_ feel that way.

Shylee let out a sigh of defeat. "I understand; I feel that way at times, too, but still, Anders, you shouldn't have just left without saying anything. You should have told someone. You should have..." 'Me'. That's what she wanted to say, but she couldn't get the word to come out of her mouth. Shylee knew that Anders had left, but she was unaware of the gory mess he had left behind.

"I know," he said, somewhat disgusted with himself for lying. "...I know."

[ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ]

"I can't believe he just _did_ that!" Hawke said somewhat angrily, trying to keep her voice down.

"That son of a bitch!" Isabela added, sounding rather proud of Anders.

"He couldn't even admit it," Varric pointed out, sounding shocked, yet by no means displeased.

[ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ]

"Why did you come here?" Anders asked. "To Kirkwall. To find your family?"

"Yes," Shylee admitted. "Jowan had always said he didn't care about his family. His mother thought he was cursed; she wanted him gone. I don't remember what my mother thought of me. I don't know if she wanted me gone, or if I was taken away from her.  
"I don't know why I came for them. To brag, to show them I'm not worthless; I'm not sure. Now that they're not here, I... I don't know what to do, or how to feel. For all I know my mother's dead.  
"The Blight's over, the Mother and the Architect are dead. What am I to do now? I'm not needed anymore."

"Are you kidding me?" Anders said, in a manner that sounded somewhat like that of his old self. "That's the exact kind of thing you used to tell me _not_ to think. You're still needed. Mages will _always_ need help against the templars. Do you know how many mages look up to you? A mage stopped the Blight; _you_ stopped the Blight. Mages still need you."

"What am I supposed to do?" Shylee exclaimed.

"Help them!"

She was silent for a moment, pondering his words. "Where do I go?"

"You can stay with me." Shylee jumped when she heard the voice, and she and Anders turned to see Hawke stepping forward.

"How much did you hear?" Anders asked with a sigh.

"Oh, not much," Varric said, coming into sight, along with Isabela.

"We just happened to be in the neighborhood," Hawke explained, scratching the back of her head in embarrassment. "You can stay with me; I live here, actually. Different part though; a lot less... empty and... dusty. It's technically your house, and anyway, we're cousins, aren't we?"

"Second cousins," Shylee corrected, grinning. "Second cousins."

[ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ]

The others had left; Hawke and Shylee were walking up some creaky wooden stairs, and things began looking a lot nicer. It was beautiful; there was no other way to describe it. Well, there was one other way to describe it: familiar.

Still, they continued walking, and Shylee's eyes moved rapidly around the rooms they passed through. It surprised her how excited she was.

"So do you have an actual name I can address you by, or are you fine being addressed by your surname?" Shylee asked playfully.

"My name's Marian, but my surname is fine," her cousin answered.

"If my name were Mariran I'd probably want to go by my surname, too.

Hawke laughed. "I still can't believe _you're_ the Hero of Ferelden."

"Oh, it has its downsides," Shylee said, running ahead, exploring the house. "Fighting Darkspawn, early death and all that."

"That certainly doesn't sound pleasant," Hawke said, sounding slightly concerned.

"Yes; it happens to all of us. Anders knows now, but I wish I could have told him.  
"Though, his options were become a Grey Warden or Tranquil. I was faced with those options, too. That, death, or imprisonment; I didn't stick around to wait and see. Then again, once you've had the Right of Conscription put on you, you don't really have much of a choice in the matter. You're forced to become a Warden, or die trying. Or maybe it was just that way with Duncan; he did seem rather pushy."

"You seem calm, considering," Marian pointed out.

Shylee shrugged. "We're all going to die eventually, right? No point dwelling over it." She paused. "What... happened to Anders?"

"What do you mean?" Hawke asked.

"I don't know how long you've known him, but when I knew him, he was a sarcastic, egotistical, ass. And a flirt to boot." She chuckled at the memory.

"Maybe the years have changed him," Hawke suggested. Or was it Justice that had changed him? She wouldn't bring up this theory, though. If Anders wanted to keep Justice a secret from Shylee, she would have to respect that decision, even if she _did_ find it ridiculous.

"I can feel the tension between the templars and mages in this town," Shylee commented. "It's rising; it can't be ignored much longer."

The Champion sighed. "I know; I'm just hoping we can hold it off for as long as possible."

"Excuse me for interrupting, but I believe a new letter has arrived for you," a voice informed Hawke.

"Bodahn!" Shylee crowed, looking down a set of stairs to see the dwarf.

"Oh my, if it isn't the Warden!" Bodahn said. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Messere."

"You, too," she turned to his son and laughed, "and Sandal as well."

"Enchantment!" cried the young dwarf.

"Killed any hoards of darkspawn lately?" Shylee asked, amused yet serious.

Bodahn didn't think anything of the question (he probably assumed she was joking), but Hawke stared at Shylee with a surprised yet knowing expression.

"I suppose he has, then," Shylee said with a grin.

"Excuse me for a moment," Hawke said, heading towards the pile of letters she had. Most had been opened, and probably read, except for one. Hawke quickly skimmed the words on the letter and her eyes widened. "I'm sorry, I have to go," Hawke said. "A girl has been kidnapped by bandits."

"Let me help you," Shylee said.

"No, you stay here," Marian said.

"I want to come," the Warden insisted.

"You're my guest; I'm not going to have you running around doing quests with me," Hawke explained. "That'll have to wait a couple of days. Then you can come and kill as many people as you want with me."

"You're no fun," Shylee said. "I insist; let me come."

"I insist; stay," Hawke said.

"I'm coming."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"_No_, you're not."

"_Yes_, I am."

"Stay here!"

"No!"

"My house, my rules!"

"Wasn't this 'technically my house' five minutes ago?"

"Oh, Maker, just forget it! I need to save that girl before she gets killed... or worse." Hawke was already at the door when she said this, and quickly opened and slammed it in Shylee's face.

"Well, there's no doubt about it," Shylee said. "We are _definitely_ related."

The mabari next to the fireplace barked.

"Ooh, a mabari. You look just like Sagar. Where is Sagar anyway?" Shylee could imagine her canine companion somewhere in Denerim, wandering around with a confused look on his face. "Probably should have brought him with me."

"Enchantment!" Sandal responded.

"What am I going to do now?" Shylee wondered aloud.

"Well, messere, you could always go see some of Messere Hawke's companions. I'm afraid I don't know where they are, though. You can usually find people at the Hanged Man."

"Thank you, Bodahn," Shylee said with a smile, and began walking away, only to turn around and add, "It's good to see you again."

Bodahn smiled at the comment, and Sandal shouted more nonsense. Shylee walked out the door, and unsure of where to go, headed towards the only place she knew the location of: the clinic in Darktown.


	2. Interlude

The Rivaini pirate had come to pay Kirkwall a visit, only to be stopped by some men in armor who seemed to have a bone to pick with her. Since one of the guards happened to be rather good looking, she had decided to comply and go with them to wherever it was they wanted to take her. She was now in a small, dimply lit room, nearly bare, save for a table with two chairs on either side. It certainly wasn't the good time she had been hoping for, but she had decided to stick around, comfortable knowing that she was armed and could slit her host's throat if need be. She calmly sat in one of the chairs as she told her story, fearlessly looking her interrogator in the eyes.

"Wait," said the interrogator, "so the reason she went to Kirkwall was to find her family?"

"That's what she said," Isabela replied.

"And she really had no clue that this other Warden, Anders, was there?"

"She had no idea. He'd up and left. Made damn well sure that no one would be able to find him."

"Well, this changes things. She wasn't there to help Hawke with—?"

"—None of us knew that _that _was going to happen, love."

"That Anders fellow must have known. ...Did she help him?"

"No, but she ended up getting tangled up in it anyway." She leaned back in her chair and sighed. "Just like the rest of us."


End file.
